By the Comics Curmudgeon
Even though he’s been the President of the United States, literally the most famous and recognizable person on earth, for the last year and a half, and he was on TV constantly for like two years before that, and he wrote two books and so on, we don’t really know who Barack Obama is, do we? I mean, who is this character? Does he mean what he says? Can we trust him, to keep our freedoms safe? These are not racist questions to ask! That’s because birds and sex-robots aren’t “races” per se.
Most Americans are more tolerant that we usually give them credit for! For instance, if you told them that the President was not a human like you or me, but rather a majestic, almost prehistoric-looking bird, one that swoops beautifully through the air on ragged wings, across Americas inland waterways — a pelican, in other words — they’d probably look perplexed for a moment, then nod sagely and say, “Well, I guess that’s OK. Birds have contributed a lot to this great land, they’ve pulled themselves up by their wingstraps. Good for them.” But they also have their limits! If you told them that Obama was only the top half of this pelican, and that the bottom half was Joe Sestak, they would say “AAAH AAAH AAHHHH MONSTER MONSTER MONSTER” and then try to kill, it by drowning it in oil.
And yet who will run the country, now that the Obama-Sestak bird is dead? Certainly not Joe Biden, ha ha! No, the White House fortunately has a large store of Obama-robots. Unfortunately, with government inefficiency being as it is, the Obamandroids are all kept disassembled, for “easier storage.” The White House staff, being composed mostly of useless humanities majors, proved unable to piece together the cybernetic bits to create a fully functioning president, so eventually the half-built metal beast had to brush them aside and finish the job itself.
As scientists and observers of mankind’s fallen nature had long feared, the advanced Obama-bot, a miracle of modern science, was of course immediately put to use for depraved purposes, as a walking, talking sex toy. The first to avail themselves of its erotic services were angry teabaggers, thrilled to have at last found someone to help them live out their fantasies as S&M bottoms. “Plug my hole, daddy!” they shouted. “For the love of God, plug it, I’m begging you!” Robot Obama was not programmed with emotions, yet it still was saddened by their desperate advances.
What, in the end, was there left for America’s government to do, to win back the hearts of a cynical people? Let’s see, what do Americans hate more than anything, we’ll just get rid of that — wait a minute, death! The Obama administration resolved to actually deport Death like a common Mexican, back to its own personal Mexico (i.e., Hades, the Underworld, Sheol, what have you). With Death out of the way, Americans could continue to engage in all their favorite pathetic activities — smoking, boozing, killing the pain with drugs, refusing to engage in physical activity of any kind, eating sandwiches where the bread is replaced by fried meat — free of consequences. Of course, with the population immortal, the country would quickly fill up with people — that is, if the aforementioned activities hadn’t also rendered the eternal Americans sterile and/or too slothful for procreation. Win-win!
Meanwhile, Rod Blagojevich, having nothing else to lose, is just spending most of his trial shitting on himself.